


Acceptance

by kalisgirl



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: Community: rarewomen, Double Drabble, Gen, Post-Book(s), Rare Characters, Rare Fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:45:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalisgirl/pseuds/kalisgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything changes, yet family is always with you.<br/>Moments from the year after Sabriel and Lirael defeated the Destroyer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kerrykhat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerrykhat/gifts).



> There are so many ways to go with Old Kingdom fic, because the world is so rich. For this story, I wanted to explore single ideas from the point of view of Sabriel or Lirael. The scenes were created for one-word prompts, keeping to the double-drabble length (except the last one).
> 
> I hope you enjoy these glimpses into the lives of these rare women, kerrykhat!

**change**

Sameth’s laugh is a balm. There had been so many years when Sabriel had despaired of her son finding his place in the world. Now, surrounded by blueprints and models, he is full of smiles and confidence. To see her son growing into himself, into the man she always knew he could be, fills Sabriel with such pride she feels she might burst from it.

The worksite at Forwin Mill has been a hive of activity. Charter mages loading the pieces of the broken sphere, held fast in shields of bone and herb, into the transports Sam had designed. Others cleansing the earth of the taint of Orannis under the direction of Sabriel’s new apprentice. The Abhorsen-in-Waiting possess a vast knowledge of the Magics that is only surpassed by her innate skill.

“Mother,” Sam calls out. “We’re finished. The Destroyer will be gone by sundown.”

“The land is clean,” Lirael adds. “It’s over now.”

“Thank you, my dears. Safe travels.”

Sabriel turns away. She has a long journey ahead of her. A free magic creature had been loosed in the eastern borderlands. The Abhorsen is needed.

It’s over now, Lirael had said. No, Sabriel thinks to herself. It’s never over.

 

**morning**

Each morning, Lirael forgets. She opens her eyes to a room with windows and brightly painted walls and for a moment she doesn’t know where she is. Then she shifts her legs to wake the Dog, to ask her what is going on, and it all comes back. Orannis and Hedge. Nick and Mogget. Sam and the Abhorsen.

Family. Each morning, she remembers that she has a new family now. A sister with dark, straight hair and a nephew with a friendly grin. A king for a brother-in-law, and a niece who will be queen. Lirael lives in a palace now, rather than lurking in corners in the library of the farseeing Clayr. She wakes into sunlight and a sense of belonging, of purpose. Of loss.

Each morning she reaches for the Dog - for her best friend, her strength - and finds emptiness. The memories that come fill her with pain, and love. Lirael keeps the stone statue by her bed now. She tells this dog, this small piece of her Dog, all her worries and fears and hopes for the day to come. Then she rises from her bed and prepares herself to continue repairing the damage done.

 

**forgiveness**

“I’m worried about Sameth.” Sabriel leans into Touchstone’s embrace. “He’s taking on too much.”

“It’s his way of…” Touchstone’s arms tighten, “asking forgiveness.”

The view from their balcony is beautiful. Sabriel stares at it blindly. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

“Yet he feels guilt over what happened.”

“As you did,” Sabriel said, finally understanding, “after Kerrigor.”

“Yes. He needs forgiveness from those who were hurt. And to forgive himself.”

“The Ancelstierriens call that ‘seeking absolution.’ I thought it self-indulgent.”

“If it makes him less unhappy, less angry” Touchstone muses, “I think we can support a little self-indulgence.”

“Just a little. Sameth must find his own peace.”

“Sameth isn’t the only one in need of peace.” He touches his lips to her temple. “Are you seeking forgiveness, my love?”

The truth in his words chills her. How to find peace? When Sabriel met Lirael, she had been shocked, and angry. For her father to have kept this secret… it twisted like a blade in her heart. But now she feels torn between love for this new sister and anger at her father. The conflict tears at her. Maybe, to end this hurt, she needs to forgive her father his secret. Grant absolution.

 

**knowledge**

The creature roars, its breath harsh with Free Magic. Slowly, carefully, Lirael reaches for the bells needed to send the thing into Death where Sabriel is waiting to force it through the gates. Saraneth and Kibeth sing a duet. Lirael smiles as the corpse collapses, the Dead spirit banished.

She calls Charter marks quickly. The body is turning to ash when Sabriel emerges from her trance.

"You're learning quickly," she says. "You've been reading the Book of the Dead again?

“I like books." Especially ones where the text changes on each reading, Lirael thinks with a smile.

“And you’re obviously practicing your bells."

"Every day." She can hear the bells, even with felt on the clappers, and they sing to her. It is like dancing, except that the music follows the movement.

"Well, you have a special way with Kibeth. That spirit marched straight through the ninth gate without a fight." Sabriel shakes frost from her hair.

Lirael becomes aware of ice melting down her neck and shivers.

"Kibeth?" She feels the ache that comes with memories of the Disreputable Dog. Just then, a breeze licks across her cheek like a ghostly tongue and Lirael smiles. "Yes, I understand Kibeth." 

 

**jealousy**

Sabriel crouches in a flowerbed, Charter marks flowing from fingers. She and Touchstone had decided that an extra protection spell would help them stay calm as their oldest child assumed the Regency that afternoon. The banners behind the throne wave gently as they absorb the final marks. Sabriel prepares to sneak away – Touchstone insisted that no one know of their parental protectiveness – but a voice catches her attention.

“Those are for my mother… Sameth’s… my father’s. My Aunt’s.”

Sabriel hears bitterness as Ellimere says ‘Aunt’ and realizes it’s not for the first time, though Ellimere sounds angrier than in past.

“Ellimere. I wish to speak with you.” She steps from behind the banners and courtiers scatter like starlings. “Ellimere, is there a problem between you and Lirael?”

Ellimere’s face hardens. She resembles her father at his most stubborn. “How could there be? I’ve barely met her. She’s been at your side for the past seven months.”

“Lirael is training, Ellimere, and helping to rebuild the Old Kingdom.”

“And the Kingdom comes before everything.”

“No, dearest,” Sabriel says. “Never before you and your brother. Lirael may be the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, but you are my beloved daughter and first in my heart, always.”

 

**acceptance**

Lirael tips her head back, staring up at the mountain rising above her. The terrace is washed in sunlight but she feels the chill of the glacier when the wind bites through her hooded coat. She turns to her Paperwing and runs her fingers along the nose of the craft, feeling the warmth of the sleeping Charter marks through the wool of her gloves.

Her heart aches as she looks down at the Clayr’s glacier. She loves her new home, she truly does, and the family that has welcomed her so warmly. She knows that she has an important role to play, as Remembrancer and Abhorsen-in-Waiting. And yet, when Lirael stands at the Starmount Gate she feels echoes of the loneliness that first drove her to these heights. She had despaired then of ever finding her place with the Clayr. Now she knows that she will never have one.

“It’s an amazing sight.” Sabriel’s voice interrupts Lirael’s melancholy thoughts. “Though I’m thinking you’re not really looking at the view.”

She rests a hand on Lirael’s shoulder, squeezing gently. Lirael leans into the touch. She enjoys the moments of closeness with her half-sister, when they cease to be master and apprentice and become almost like mother and daughter.

“Do you want to stay for a bit longer?” Sabriel asks. “You know you can go in and spend time with your cousins. There’s nothing urgent for us to rush back to.”

Lirael shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. I spoke with Sanar and Ryelle. They brought greetings from my Aunt. We can go now.”

Sabriel eyes her closely, then takes Lirael by the hand and leads her away from the brink.

“I think we should talk first. You’ve had a very long and often difficult year since you left the Clayr. Ryelle tells me that you have declined their invitations to return for a visit.”

Lirael sighs deeply. She should have known the older women would talk about her. “I’ve been so busy. With training and travelling. There hasn’t been a good time.”

The other woman’s face softens into a sad smile. “There’s never a good time to look back when the past is full of difficulty and disappointment.” She wraps both her hands around Lirael’s. “When I became Abhorsen, I thought I knew what it meant for my life. I resigned myself to loneliness, hardship, responsibility.”

If Sabriel was trying to comfort her, she wasn’t doing a very good job.

“Still, people kept pushing into my life. I fought it at first, but then I opened myself to new possibilities.” Sabriel falls silent.

Lirael stares out at the glacier. Long seconds pass as she searches for a response.

“This… isn’t what I wanted,” she begins hesitantly, not certain how to explain her feelings. “From my life, I mean. I wanted to wear white, to be part of the Watch. But now I wear bells and carry a sword. Which is fine,” she says, wanting Sabriel to understand, “really, it is. I have a purpose, I help people… but it’s not what I had wanted for so many years.”

Sabriel’s face is sympathetic. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to spend time here, then,” she says. “It must be like poking at a bruise. Reminder of past pain.”

Lirael nods.

“If there was something I could say to make that pain go away, I would say it. There’s not, I’m afraid.” Sabriel smiles slightly. “I will tell you that I understand what you’re feeling and that for me, it got better. I learned that I didn’t have to live alone, that I could be Abhorsen _and_ be Sabriel. I accepted that I was going to live a different life than I had expected.”

Lirael is tempted to roll her eyes, as Sameth so often does, but she knows that Sabriel is trying to help.

“I have accepted that my life won’t be what I wanted,” she says.

“I don’t think you have,” Sabriel counters. “You’ve allowed your new life to happen to you, but you have not embraced it yet.”

Lirael wants to argue, but she thinks that Sabriel may have a point. For the past year, she has responded to every challenge, every horror, that crossed her path as a new task on an endless list of chores. She does not feel the passion with which Sameth approaches his work, or Ellimere her Regency. Perhaps her inner conflict shows in her face, because Sabriel leans over and kisses the crown of her head.

“It will come in time, my dear,” she says, patting Lirael’s hands. “You will accept your new life, take strength from who you are and the role you play in the world. You will create a life for yourself that might not be what you expected or thought you wanted, but it will be what you need. I believe in you, Lirael. I know you will find happiness.”


End file.
